she took the kitchen knife, one of the nice ones Beau had left her when he moved out, sharpened and ready. She began to draw the blade down her arm, not across, as she knew from countless television shows and books, and had seen firsthand at a few fatalities. She started strong, the blade biting deep into the flesh just below her elbow, but it hurt more than she expected. She gasped and stopped, mesmerized by the sheet of crimson that rolled down her arm.
Fuck
